


rebellion's such a hushed affair

by zeitgeistofnow



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Bending (Avatar), Family, M/M, Revolution, The Jasmine Dragon (Avatar), War, author hates the dai li and also rich ppl, sokka is a student at ba sing se universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:36:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25499206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeitgeistofnow/pseuds/zeitgeistofnow
Summary: the bells tied to the door rings out when sokka walks into the shop. the boy working the counter looks up from his crossword puzzle and tucks the pencil behind his ear. he’s obviously from the fire nation, skin still porcelain-pale in the near-constant sun of ba sing se and a burn scar obscuring half his face. sokka sits at the counter and rests his chin in his hand. he slings his backpack onto the ground next to him, grateful for the weight off his shoulders. those math books weigh like, fifteen tons.“what can i get for you?” the guy says, and his voice is perfect, just the right amount of rasp and a warm inflection on his w’s that make sokka want to melt.
Relationships: Sokka & Aang & Toph Beifong & Suki & Katara, Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), very background Suki/Original Female Character
Comments: 95
Kudos: 654





	rebellion's such a hushed affair

**Author's Note:**

> ok i know the notes r kinda confusing so here's the lowdown on the au: bending still exists and the world/war/governments look the same as they do in atla. all the characters who are benders on the show are still benders, etc etc. none of the main characters are "important" though, they're just all normal people. 
> 
> title is from lazybones by kat flint which i CAN'T recommend enough this song makes me FEEL THINGS and also it's highkey the mood for this fic. also zuko is trans and it's not mentioned bc it's not from his perspective and not relevant but he is. always

Sokka is wandering home from his Calc II class, which is a  _ terrible  _ class to have end at 10:45 at night. He can feel all the formulas and numbers slip through his brain and out his ears as his feet trip along the cobbled streets. 

He could definitely take the train home, and it would be a few times quicker, but he likes walking late at night. The walk back from the college is interesting- the passage from pristine brick streets that are kept for historical remembrance to the new asphalt to the old asphalt to the brick streets that are there only because no city official has thought to replace them. Even on the outer rings, though, the night streets are lit by neon sights coating the sides of shops, advertising everything from sex toys to the newest headphones to tea. The bright colors of the lights bleed out into the night-mist that descends onto the city’s streets, pink-infused droplets of water falling gently on Sokka’s nose. 

Sokka’s stomach growls to itself and he gives the tea shop another look.  _ The Jasmine Dragon,  _ it says, and the neon dragon curled up above the door looks fearsome even as it seems contented by the cup of tea in front of it. The shop is still lit inside, a warm glow illuminating a few lone figures. 

Sokka evaluates the situation- it’s in the lower ring, so tea’s probably not more than a few copper pieces, but he only has eight on him right now and another few silver pieces at home. His student loan money won’t come in for another week and he got laid off last week and hasn’t managed to find a new job since. A city full of refugees with no money creates a sad loop in on itself when it comes to making jobs. 

He fingers the copper pieces in his pocket and stares up at the neon dragon. It blinks slowly at him, eyelid mechanically moving up and down, and condensation drips from the light onto the doorframe. The door opens to let a patron out and the cool night air is filled with a gust of steam, the smell of spice and baked goods hitting Sokka like a brick. His stomach protests again and he figures it can’t hurt to get something for himself.

The bells tied to the door rings out when Sokka walks into the shop. The boy working the counter looks up from his crossword puzzle and tucks the pencil behind his ear. He’s obviously from the Fire Nation, skin still porcelain-pale in the near-constant sun of Ba Sing Se and a burn scar obscuring half his face. Sokka sits at the counter and rests his chin in his hand. He slings his backpack onto the ground next to him, grateful for the weight off his shoulders. Those math books weigh like, fifteen tons.

“What can I get for you?” The guy says, and his voice is  _ perfect,  _ just the right amount of rasp and a warm inflection on his  _ w _ ’s that make Sokka want to melt. Sokka swallows. 

Sokka looks over the guy’s shoulder to the menu bolted to the wall. “Uh,” he says, “do you guys have cookies?”

“Absolutely,” the man says. He smiles lopsidedly and a few more strands of hair fall out of his haphazard ponytail. He’s really cute, too, Sokka notices idly. “Just warning you, though, the ones we have today are a new recipe and my uncle hasn’t quite mastered it. The carrot cake is terrific, though.”

Sokka narrows his eyes at the board. The carrot cake is a copper piece more expensive than the cookies, too. “Oh? I’ll take the cookie anyway. He won’t get better if he doesn’t keep making them, right? And he won’t keep making them if they don’t sell.”

The guy shrugs. “Suit yourself. Any tea?”

“What’s your favorite boba?”

“The rose milk tea,” the guy says without hesitation. “It reminds me of the gardens my family had when I was a child.” His golden eyes glint in the warm lights illuminating the cafe.

“I’ll have that, then,” and Sokka’s total comes to three copper pieces. Exactly what he can afford. He’ll buy some ramen with his remaining five tomorrow for lunch. The other man hands Sokka a cookie and busies himself fiddling with a few tea-making machines, shoveling boba into a plastic cup and topping it with milk and rose tea. 

It smells like the signature rancidness of summertime, the overwhelming sickly sweetness of the sun on sweaty skin. It’s a nostalgia that’s recent: that kind of over blooming scent was hardly found at the South Pole, and it’s only since immigrating to Ba Sing Se that he’s stumbled upon the distinct feeling of high summer.

“The peak of summer is almost here,” the other man says. “This mist won’t stay too long into it.”

“Ugh.” Sokka looks over his shoulder at the water droplets settling on the cafe’s windows. He takes the last bite of his cookie and dusts his hands on his pants. “I’ll miss it.”

“I won’t.” He snorts and hands Sokka his glass. The rose tea at the top is slowly settling into the layer of milk below it, pink-red tendrils dissolving. “Dampens my inner fire.” Sokka’s only vaguely heard about inner fire. It’s a firebending thing, he thinks. Maybe it’s just a Fire Nation thing. 

“My little sister can play tricks with the mist,” Sokka says. “She paints pictures with the raindrops on windows. My Gran Gran loves it.”

“She’s a water bender?” the man asks.

“Yeah. We’re from the Southern Water Tribe. Originally. We came here when the Fire Nation attacked. Also like, thirteen year old and a fourteen year old we picked up on the way.”

The barista’s inquising expression turns amused. “Sounds like you have your hands full with all those kids. I could never. My uncle has a hard enough time with just me. Of course, fire probably causes more property damages than water.”

“I’ve got my Gran Gran to help manage them,” Sokka says, and sips at his straw. “And my ex girlfriend.”

“Your ex?”

“Yeah. She wasn’t going to be able to afford an apartment on her own when we broke up and we weren’t going to be able to make rent if she moved out so we figured she should just keep living with us. Our breakup was mutual, no hard feelings on either side. It’s chill.” He shrugs. 

The man smiles. “That’s very admirable, Mr…” Sokka gazes at the man’s face, how his smile is just a little lopsided and lights up his eyes. It takes him a few moments to realize the man is asking his name.

“Uh- oh, Sokka. Just Sokka. I don’t really have a last name. We got assigned them when we came into Ba Sing Se, but it’s not a thing the Water Tribes need. I just use it for official paperwork and stuff.” He chews on a tapioca pearl. He’s not sure he even remembers his last name. It’s very Earth Kingdom-y and matches the name  _ Sokka  _ about as well as Sokka’s favorite orange shirt matches his neon blue basketball shorts. “What’s your name?”

“Zuko,” Zuko says. “I have a last name, but it’s not something I give out lightly. Do you live around here, Sokka?”

“A few more blocks out in a three bedroom apartment.” Gran Gran in one, Toph and Katara in another, Aang in a walk-in closet they’d agreed to call a bedroom, and Suki and Sokk sharing a queen sized bed in the last. Sokka’s  _ so  _ glad their breakup was tearless. 

“You should come into the shop more often,” Zuko says. His voice is pleasantly gravely. “You’re entertaining to talk to.”

“You think so?” Sokka asks, preening just a little. He does need more friends that he doesn’t live with. It’s hard making friends in college, though! Everyone’s either some rich bitch with family money or too busy with their three jobs to give Sokka a few minutes of their time. “Yeah, I mean. I would. I don’t know if my wallet could take it.”

“Next order’s on the house,” Zuko offers. “If that sweetens the deal at all.”

“Oh it totally does,” Sokka says. He smiles at Zuko and Zuko smiles back. It feels  _ right,  _ like the two of them smiling at each other is something that the universe meant to happen, like something if falling into place. Warmth blooms in Sokka’s chest and he has a moment to realize that  _ oh shit, this is the beginning of a crush _ before Zuko looks away and rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck.

“Uh, yeah. I do have to close the shop, though.” 

Sokka looks around and realizes everyone else had left the cafe while he had sipped at his boba. He blusters his apologies to Zuko, who waves them off, ushering Sokka out the door and locking it behind him with a smirk. He flicks off the lights a moment later and Sokka watches him through the picture window in the front of the store, the neon lights from the street illuminating him in red, purple, blue. 

Suki sits on the counter while their pasta water boils. Sokka stands next to her, slowly chopping green onions. He’s the chef of the house since Gran Gran’s arthritis made it so that she couldn’t do much more than sit at the kitchen table and back seat drive. That doesn’t mean he’s good at chopping onions and  _ all  _ their knives are dull. 

He curses as he almost cuts off his finger again and Suki chuckles at something on her phone. 

“Aang!” he shouts, because he knows the three of them got back from school hours ago. He can hear whatever absurdist standup comedy special they’re watching in the living room. 

“Sokka!” Aang shouts back, and Gran Gran mutters something from the kitchen table. “What’s up, bro?”

Suki lifts her phone to show Sokka a news article: “Long Feng displays glorious example of charity, giving fifteen thousand gold to foundations meant to help refugees,” Sokka reads, still holding the knife in one hand. Suki laughs again, closing her eyes and throwing her head back. When she stops giggling, she sighs, looking more tired than Sokka would ever want her to be.

“Fuck the government.”

“Fuck the government,” Sokka agrees, and Gran Gran chides him for his language. “Aang!” Sokka shouts again. Aang air-scooters into the kitchen, dropping back onto his feet in front of Sokka.

“What?”

“Grab the knife sharpener from the drawer. This knife needs to be sharpened, and,” Sokka jerks over their knife drawer. It’s sticky, and you have to pull it open with the exact right amount of force or it either doesn’t open or falls on your feet. “These are dull too.” He hands Aang a bundle of five knives and the boy holds them in the air gingerly.

“Why can’t Toph just metalbend them sharp enough?” He complains, rummaging through their miscellaneous-utensils drawer for the knife sharpener. “It’d be less wasteful.”

"You kids and your bending," Suki tuts. “What would happen if something messed up your chi? You need to know how to sharpen knives like the rest of us. You won’t always have a supernaturally prodigal earthbender there.” A moment later the room is filled with the scraping sound of knife on metal.

“It’s disgraceful,” Gran Gran says from the table, “how all those government officials are carrying on. We’re practically living in a police state these days! You turn on the TV and see that secretaritariat marveling at where all us refugees are coming from, touting the freedom of Ba Sing Se. It’s like chicken pox!”

“Careful, Gran Gran,” Suki says, tapping at her phone. “You don’t want to let the Dai Li hear you say stuff like that.”

“Oh, who cares what the Dai Li do to me! I’m  _ old.  _ I’ve got nothing left to live for but my freedom of speech.”

“UGH,” Aang cries, “why can’t Katara do this?”

“Because I do  _ everything,”  _ Katara yells from the living room.

“Gran Gran, don’t say that! We need you here,” Sokka says. He reaches over Suki to grab the knife from Aang and finishes cutting the onions. Still hardly professional quality, but it’s done and he still has all his digits. 

“And your freedom of speech is a farce in this city anyway. You can say  _ whatever  _ you want, so long as it’s what they want,” Suki spits. She grabs a chunk of the shiitake Sokka’s just begun slicing. “Otherwise they’ll make sure the only things you say in the future are what they want.”

“You’re not talking about brainwashing, are you? That’s just some conspiracy theory.”

“Say what you want, Ying got a bit too cheeky with an officer last month and now she’s spouting propaganda everywhere. It’s kinda scary.” Suki doesn’t look scared, just angry. She bites absently at her thumbnail and Sokka’s grandma nods in assent.

“Oh, yes. Some of my old lady friends were talking about it. Their rebellious sons get arrested and come back weeks later acting like the king is the only man they’ll ever give a second thought to.” Gran Gran stretches in her seat to see the ramen Sokka’s trying to prepare. “Have you started the noodles yet? Best thing about coming to Ba Sing Se, you know. It’s so hard to get grain shipped down to the South Pole, especially with the you-know-what going on.”

“So _ kka,”  _ Aang says, flopping to sit cross-legged on the tiled floor, “Am I almost done?”

“Yeah, Gran Gran. They’re in the pot over there and I’ve got a timer on my phone.” Sokka glances down at Aang. “Have you been working on the same knife this whole time? Geeze, kiddo, you’re gonna sharpen them to death.”

“Well I’m sorry the Fire Nation slaughtered my entire people before I could learn how to sharpen knives,” Aang shoots back. He says it offhandedly, but Sokka knows how stuff like that can be. He glances at his cutting board and bowl of chopped toppings, then at the microwave clock. 6:23.

“‘Kay, I’ll show you,” he decides. “I shouldn’t have asked you to do something you don’t know how to do. Suki, can you keep chopping?”

“I thought you’d  _ never  _ ask.” Suki drops her phone on the counter and shakes her hair out of her face, golden brown strands catching in the setting sunlight. “You have the vegetable chopping skills of a five year old.”

“Well you didn’t offer! And I can carve meat no problem. Cubing vegetables wasn’t a huge thing at the poles.”

“We’ve been in Ba Sing Se for a year now. It’s not that hard to learn.” Suki chops vegetables like someone filmed Sokka and sped the video up three times. She tosses her hair again and scrapes the mushrooms into the pot. “What else are you putting in there?”

“Hard boiled eggs,” Sokka says, preparing his grip on the knife sharpener. “I didn’t really think anything else through. We have broth and soy sauce in the fridge and pork… probably also in the fridge. The noodles should be done soon.” He turns to Aang. “Okay, so you hold the sharpener like this, vertical and braced against the counter- or floor, I guess- and then slide the knife down it. Do that a bunch of times.” 

Suki swings open the fridge door and it protests loudly, the light inside flickering irately. “Okay, cool. That sounds yummy.” She grabs a handful of hard boiled eggs from the ceramic bowl they keep them in and drops them on the cutting board, starting to peel at the shell. “Hey, Sokka. You’re still between jobs, right?”

Sokka casts a dark look at her and hands Aang the knife sharpener. “Yeah.”

“I was in the upper ring today for…” Suki glances out the window. Sokka gets it. There’s  _ probably  _ no one listening in, but there might be. “Girl… stuff…”

Sokka nods understandingly.  _ Girl Stuff  _ is the closest thing to code that the two of them have. Suki and her gang of refugee women work with the rebellion in some way. Suki’s never explained more than that to Sokka and he never knows where she’s going or when she’ll be back. He gets that it’s for both their safety, but… well, he worries. He’s good at pretending not to, though. “Like how you legally have to mensturate in the upper ring. I get it.”

Suki rolls her eyes. “Yeah, like that. Anyway, there’s some catering business that’s hiring. It does fancy parties so good tips and you clean up well enough. I figured it wouldn’t hurt for you to send in a resume.”

Sokka thinks about the pile of bills on his dresser, carefully put out of sight of everyone in the house but Suki, then about his pile of textbooks that he only mostly has time to read. “Yeah, I’ll do that. Dunno if they’ll want a Water Tribe refugee as a server-”

“It’s refugee owned,” Suki says. “Me and the girls… work with them.”

_ Oh,  _ Sokka thinks,  _ so it’s a front for some anti-monarchy organization.  _ He raises an eyebrow. “Is it safe?”

“They take a lot of precautions to make sure their employees can’t be held accountable for any mistakes an employer might make,” Suki says smoothly. She makes air quotes when she says  _ mistakes  _ and her mouth quirks up at the corners. Sokka’s reminded every day why he’s in love with her- he couldn’t have a better best friend. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll go up there tomorrow.”

Sokka gets the job because he’s the most charismatic guy in Ba Sing Se. He had stopped into the business, taking a detour from his normal walk home. A look over his resume, a quick interview, and a cheerful, “yeah, I’m Suki’s Sokka,” had netted him the job. He feels a little guilty about using Suki’s connections to get ahead- networking had always seemed wrong to him- but if he can, he’s gonna. 

He whistles as he walks through the sunset dappled streets of the upper ring, waving happily at the suspicious looks Earth Kingdom nobels give him. 

The upper ring makes him nervous the same way the lower ring probably makes rich people nervous; the Dai Li stationed at every corner narrow their eyes at him when he walks past and Sokka tightens his grip on his backpack. He keeps his easy smile, though, even if his shoulders don’t fully relax until he gets into the train back to the lower ring. He puts his earbuds in and leans back against the glass window, letting the music seep into his bones. 

_ Do you remember / when you were young and you wanted to set the world on fire?  _ He’s been listening to this song almost on repeat for the part few days, which isn’t actually all that much time: he doesn’t listen to music very much. The lead singer’s a fire nation refugee and a lot of her songs are some combination of coming to terms with her ethnicity and gender. Suki bought him an album of hers a few years ago, right after they came to Ba Sing Se. It was their four month anniversary or something like that. 

He still listens to her music regularly and Suki teases him about it. He thinks that it’s more a testament to how in sync they can be, how even after just four months she would be able to buy him music that he would keep listening to for years. 

A  _ ding ding ding  _ announces his stop and he hops off the train, ready to walk home. 

The Jasmine Dragon catches his eye again. It looks dark inside, but maybe that’s just because the contrast of the dark outside is gone. It’s 3:47 on a Wednesday, there’s no reason they wouldn’t be open. 

Sokka tries the door before his eyes flicker up to the handwritten sign.  _ Taking a day off for personal reasons,  _ it says,  _ the staff of the Jasmine Dragon hope that you have a wonderful day nonetheless.  _ He sighs and starts to turn around.

The clear ring of brass bells make him stop. “Hey,” Zuko says, “I know the shop’s closed, but do you want to uh, eat some mint leaves?”

“Mint leaves?” Sokka eats actual mints a lot because he likes eating horseradish on his sandwiches, but eating mint leaves always seemed like something annoying rich kids at his school would do. Polo shirts and a single mint leaf on your tongue.

“We use them for tea, so we have a tiny garden.” Zuko shrugs. He’s wearing a loose button up that drapes over his shoulders like water over rocks and he looks the tiniest bit shy. It’s a cute expression on his face but Sokka thinks he would find most expressions cute on Zuko’s face. “I figure you probably just wanted tea but I don’t have any water boiling since I hate doing it the nonbending way and it’s- the anniversary of something. That would make it disrespectful to firebend.” He doesn’t elaborate or look overly distressed about whatever the anniversary is

“I actually came for the company,” Sokka says finally. “I got a job today,” he adds, and Zuko grins at him. His teeth are blindingly white and the front two are a tiny bit crooked. It’s a nice smile. 

“Congrats, man!” He steps back, holding the door open. “Do you want to come up?”

Sokka glances at his phone. “Uh, yeah. Just let me text Suki that she should start dinner.” Sokka does that as they walk upstairs, stumbling behind the other boy as he tries to both type out **_uhhh so a cute boy asked me to eat mint leaves with him. pls make some rice and chop.. stuff. xoxo_** and not fall on his face or ram his shin into the edge of a table. He succeeds with nothing more than a few typos and Zuko opens the screen door to his balcony for Sokka. 

It’s hot out, even more than it was during Sokka’s walk home because the balcony isn’t shaded by storefronts. The air smells like herbs and dirt and Sokka’s legs protest a little bit when he collapses into criss-cross-applesauce. 

The balcony is edged with raised beds and dotted with ceramic plant pots, everything a little bit bigger than the balcony strictly allows. There’s a thin walkway down the middle and Zuko just barely fits at the end of it. He leans against the railing and rests his elbow on the edge of a raised bed, perusing through the tiny forest of green inside. His mouth curves into an unconscious smile as he looks and Sokka feels his breath catch in his throat. 

“Smells nice,” Sokka remarks. He gazes out at the city- the Jasmine Dragon is on the shorter side for buildings in this part of the ring, so all he can really see is neon lights in the street below and laundry lines strung up between balconies. Sweatshirts and traditional linen tunics float in the wind on the same lines, clothespins snapped on top.

“A lot of it is just jasmine,” Zuko says, nose still buried between plants. “Uncle really likes it. And it does smell really good. I usually do my homework out here.”

“You’re in college?” Sokka doesn’t think he’s ever seen Zuko around but Ba Sing Se University is big and he’s probably only seen a fifth of the students enrolled, even just in passing. 

“Yeah. Not BSSU, though. I go to Lake Laogai College. It’s a community college at the edge of the outer ring. I’m probably just going to inherit the tea shop from Uncle, but he wanted me to pursue some kind of degree. Before you ask, though: business with a minor in sustainable agriculture.”

And Sokka  _ isn’t  _ judging him for being a business major, not when he’s sitting on top of Zuko’s small business. He’s  _ not.  _ “Huh. I honestly didn’t know there were any other colleges.”

“It’s a big city,” Zuko says, finally emerging with two springs of something green. “This is mint.” He offers Sokka the leaf and Sokka places it gently on his tongue. It tickles the roof of his mouth and doesn’t taste like much at all. Zuko chuckles at him. “You chew on it,” he explains, then demonstrates. “It doesn’t taste like a breath mint, but it’s still noticeable.”

“Huh.” Sokka chews up the leaf. It reminds him of their journey to Ba Sing Se when Aang had accidentally poisoned them with salad. Turns out a perfectly edible Air Temple plant looks exactly like an Earth Kingdom one that causes nausea and mild fever. Sokka hasn’t eaten leaves since them, but this is Zuko's garden! And it really does taste like mint. “Funky.”

Zuko seems to absorb Sokka’s bemused expression and he smirks. “Let me guess, you subsist entirely on a diet of meat and noodles.”

“Whatever,” Sokka says. “Suki bakes sometimes and Aang really likes salads. So my diet is perfectly balanced.” The salads are few and far between these days, but sometimes they still throw some lettuce and cucumbers in a bowl and call it a day. And he doesn’t eat  _ that  _ much meat, certainly less than he used to. They have to cook it in a separate bowl so that Aang can still eat the meal and sometimes that’s just not worth the hassle. 

“Uh-hu. Sounds like it’s missing tea.”

“Tea is hardly a  _ food group,”  _ Sokka rebukes. “It’s just water with herbs in it. Basically less cool broth.”

“Wow,” Zuko says, shaking his head, “I can’t believe I invited you into my uncle’s home.” His loose hair swooshes over his forehead when he moves, settling nicely around his face. Sokka admires his dedication to having a top knot, even if it doesn’t seem to be helping manage his mane of dark hair very much. 

“Does your uncle own the shop?” Sokka asks, trying to scan the garden for more mint leaves.

“Yeah,” Zuko says, “he serves tea while I’m at school, but he’s getting old so I try not to let the manual labor fall on his shoulders too often. He’s… taking a day today, though, and wanted to give me the day off too. It’s the anniversary of my cousin’s death today, so my uncle likes to go around and be nice to people.” Zuko’s mouth twists into a wry smile. “He’s a much better person than me, if you can’t tell.”

“I’m sorry,” Sokka says. 

“Lu Ten- my cousin- was a war hero,” Zuko continues, picking a few more mint leaves and handing one to Sokka. “Well. Not a hero, I guess. It was when Uncle and I were still living in the Fire Nation and Lu Ten was drafted. We never learned much about how he died. My father told us he was a deserter and that his troop executed him, but my father lies.” Zuko tears a leaf to shreds and Sokka silently chews his. “Once me and my uncle left, though, escaped the constant propaganda, and we saw everything that the Fire Nation has done… I hope that my father was telling the truth. I don’t want to think that Lu Ten would do anything to help-” He swallows sharply, Adam's apple bobbing. “It felt like the war ended when his life did,” Zuko says. “Once no one in my family was fighting in it… there’s no bloodshed in the Fire Nation.”

“My mother was killed by the Fire Nation,” Sokka says finally. “My father is a POW, we think. We haven’t heard from him in years. He might be dead. Aang’s entire culture is destroyed and Suki’s village was burned to the ground.” Sokka doesn’t know what he’s saying but Zuko looks strangely understanding, pitying and sympathetic at the same time. His pity doesn’t feel as choking as some people’s. “I had a Snickers bar and some milk for breakfast. I just got hired to cater to Upper Ring snobs. I’m eating mint on a balcony with you in a city that has never seen the war.”

Zuko blinks at him. 

Sokka shrugs. “I just- it does feel like it’s over, doesn’t it? We’re just living. We all know that the war  _ is  _ in Ba Sing Se, but it kinda isn’t. It’s so easy to shrink the world to what you see of it and it’s  _ so hard.  _ It’s so hard to not do that and it takes so much energy.”

“I’m tired,” Zuko says quietly.

“Me too.”

“We  _ don’t  _ need more earrings,” Sokka hisses, trying to tear his eyes away from the street vendor. There are always stands for a random assortment of Lower Ring shops in the marketplace: a big square plaza edged with shambling apartments and green street signs. 

Suki sighs and runs a hand over a wrist cuff. It’s beautiful and looks like it could deflect a sword. Sokka knows the exact same thoughts are running through Suki’s mind, quick calculations about the probable composition of the shining metal and the weapons the Dai Li carry with them. “You’re right, you’re right. We still have to pay rent.”

“And buy more noodles and eggs,” Sokka agrees, still staring at a pair of blue glass drop earrings. It’s too far from the center of Ba Sing Se to have any jewelry worth more than a silver piece, but they’re still beautiful. Sokka doesn’t care if the gems are real.

“If you two are grocery shopping I can put some pieces aside for you two,” the shop owner says helpfully. “I can’t keep them more than a few hours, though.”

“Ugh,” Suki says, “thank you so much.” She points at the cuff and earrings and the man carefully removes them from the display. “We’ll be back for them soon.”

“You would look beautiful in those earrings,” the owner says. He stares at her exposed midriff for just a moment longer than Sokka appreciates, but Suki seems unbothered. Sokka loves Suki’s crop tops and wears them himself on summer days when he’s feeling especially himself, but he can’t imagine how it would feel knowing men are watching you when you don’t want them to be. “Your boyfriend is a very lucky man.”

Suki and Sokka exchange a glance and decide against explaining that the earrings are for Sokka and that they weren’t dating and also that Suki was, in fact, making her way through fucking the entire anti-governmental rebellion. “Thank you,” they say instead, joining arms and walking in the direction the owner had pointed.

The local grocery store has a tiled front that says  _ Great Foods, Great Prices  _ in red neon cursive. Sokka’s not even sure what the shop’s real name is. Inside is relievingly cool, a shock from the mid-day summer heat outside. The shelves are lined with food in bright packages and even brighter signs pointing to sales and food that’s a few copper pieces cheaper here than at their competitors. The air smells like cleaning supplies and celery. 

Sokka hands Suki her half of the shopping list and nods at the section of the grocery store she’s going to be looking in. She mockingly salutes him and winks as she heads off.

Sokka grabs noodles, then some ham and soup bone from the butcher in the corner of the store, then texts Suki to make sure they have enough cash on hand to add a few candy bars to their purchase. He picks up a gallon of milk because Aang can’t fall asleep without it and Toph insists it helps her earthbending. A bag of Cheetos for Sokka and Toph, a bag of sun Chips for Aang and Gran Gran, a bag of Funyuns for Suki and Katara. Some more eggs. Canned refried beans.

Suki gets all their fresh food because she knows all the tricks- how to tell if a watermelon will be good or if an avocado is overripe. Sokka grabs a bag of shrimp resting on a bed of ice because he has a new job, goddamnit, if there’s ever a time to treat his family it’s now.

They check out and carefully arrange their purchases in the canvas bags Suki brought with her. Suki slings both hands over her shoulders because she’s a hundred fifty pounds of solid muscle. Sokka hands the cashier two silver pieces.

“That shrimp’ll fry well,” the cashier says, dropping the silver into her cash register and giving Sokka a trio of copper pieces back. “I take it you two have kids at home?”

Sokka grimaces. He and Suki have gone to the same grocery store since they came to Ba SIng Se. He’s never really spoken to the cashier, but he should have expected that the woman would remember when he and Suki were a couple. “Uh, I guess. We’re not together anymore but we have to feed my little sister and her friends.”

The cashier nods understandingly. Sokka’s opinion of her gets dramatically higher. People always seem confused when they find out that Sokka’s not part of a conventional nuclear family. “Well, they’ll love the shrimp anyway. Nice that you two could stay friends.”

“Yeah,” Sokka says, his face melting into a fond expression, “it is.”

The cashier gestures over Sokka’s shoulder. “She dating that guy?”

Sokka thinks she’s currently dating some girl named either Bao or Jiahue. “I- don’t think so?” He turns around and sees Suki, hands on her hips, talking with Zuko. Zuko… who she’s never met. “Yeah, no. He’s just… a friend of mine.” He starts to walk off in their direction.

“Well, thanks for your business,” the cashier says, and Sokka waves over his shoulder at her. 

“Thanks for the food!” He slips between a group of people to wrap his arm around Suki’s waist. She smirks up at him. 

“Finished paying? That took you hours.”

“Whatever. Did you get that bracelet?” He studiously doesn’t look at Zuko because he knows that if he does he won’t be able to look away. 

“No, I don’t have the money.” Suki elbows him and he hands her the change from the grocer. The coins sparkle as she tucks them into her pocket. “This is Zuko.”

“I know,” Sokka says, finally letting himself look up. He’s even more gorgeous than the last time Sokka saw him. He’s not sure if it’s “emotional attachment” or if Zuko’s just actually getting prettier, but the boy is almost sparkling in the sun. He’s wearing a dark leather jacket over a t-shirt for a band Sokka only vaguely knows and his skin glows warmly. “He works at the Jasmine Dragon.”

Suki follows Sokka’s gaze to where it’s locked on Zuko’s eyes and Sokka can almost hear when the pieces click in her mind. “Oh, he’s the one you were with a few days ago.”

“Sokka mentioned me?” Zuko says, somewhere between a question and a statement and hopeful and awkward. It’s a strange, pleasant tone. 

“Sokka  _ mentioned  _ you,” Suki says, laughter in her voice. “Anyway, I know Zuko through some of my work friends. His uncle is a blessing.”

“He’s a wonderful old man,” Zuko agrees. “Although our other mutual acquaintance leaves something to desire.” Suki gives him a knowing look and Zuko purses his lips, shrugging his canvas messenger bag higher on his shoulder. Sokka feels distinctly left out, but he’s used to it. His best friend is part of a revolution and refuses to tell him any code words and his three younger “siblings” have a language all to themself. He probably only understands 80% of any conversation he ends up having. 

Suki checks her phone, making a show of swiping through her apps. “Oh, Jiahue wants to meet me for dinner…” Sokka peers at her screen. She’s open to a conversation with Toph from last night about what audiobooks she should get from the library. Definitely not an urgent text from her girlfriend, about a date or whatever else dinner is code for. “I have to go get dressed then. I’m sure you two can keep each other company! Sokka, I’ll bring all the groceries home. Earrings or that cuff?”

Sokka blinks at her, trying to parse the statement. “Uh… earrings. Unless you really want the cuff.” She’s  _ leaving?  _ He sneaks a glance at Zuko, who’s still gleaming in the sunlight. 

Suki hums. “I’ll have to think about it. Bye!” She shoots him a wink and then she’s gone, out the glass paneled doors. Sokka considers telling Zuko that she didn’t actually get a text but that would require explaining  _ why  _ Suki thought it was necessary to strand them in a grocery store. 

“So,” Zuko says, “I didn’t know your ex was  _ Suki.” _

“Oh, yeah.” Sokka shrugged. “I didn’t think you’d know who she is. Besides, even if you did it’s not always smart to go around saying her name. Like I love her, and she’s relatively careful, but I don’t want to get put on any lists.”

“She’s pretty great,” Zuko says, smiling like he didn’t hear anything of what Sokka said. Sokka narrows his eyes.

“Yeah, and my ex. And she’s dating someone right now.”

Zuko snaps out of whatever not-listening-to-Sokka haze he was in and blinks, then breaks into a grin. “Man, I’m  _ gay.  _ I just think she’s neat and want to be friends with her.”

Sokka’s still suspicious. “Not just to get ahead at your other job, right? She’s had too many people take advantage of her.” Sokka can feel himself being overprotective and he knows Suki hates when he does this, but she’s not here and even though he likes Zuko, he’d rather die than let someone hurt his family. 

“No,” Zuko says. He looks like he’s trying to decide whether to be offended. Sokka decides to drop the subject. 

“So, where are you headed?”

Zuko still looks conflicted about Sokka’s previous statement but he lifts his canvas bag. “Uncle ran out of milk for the cafe and I wanted to get more cherries. Now I’m just going back home.”

Sokka does some mental gymnastics to figure out how far the market is from the Jasmine Dragon and how far that is from home and decide whether there’s anything else he needs from the market. “I can walk you home,” he asserts. 

“I- oh, you don’t have to,” Zuko says, setting his jaw. “I’m sure you have more important things to be doing.”

“No, no, it’s no problem.”

“Really, Sokka, I don’t want to interrupt your day.”

“I’m going to walk you home,” Sokka repeats, and Zuko sighs.

“If you’re sure it’s not a bother…”

“Never. Anything for you,” he says and it comes out more romantic than he meant. He flushes. “I mean- uh. Just back to the Jasmine Dragon, right?”

Zuko watches Sokka carefully. “Yeah. Like I already said. We can take the 11 train if you have a transit card.”

Sokka  _ owns  _ one, but he and Suki walked to the store and he had lent his card to Aang yesterday and he can’t remember if he ever got it back. “Uh.” he fumbles through his wallet and pulls out the flimsy piece of cardstock. “Yep! Right here.”

“Good.” Zuko’s mouth twitches into a smile. “Keep up,” he says, and slips out the doors. His fingers trail tiny sparks that Sokka finds are cool, nothing more than a flashy trail of breadcrumbs. The other boy is a lot faster than him but the sparks stay in the air until Sokka passes them, allowing him to make his way to the train stop without much trouble. Zuko waits for him there, shoulder braced against the railing of a set of stairs. He’s staring at the wall around the corner, a light frown creasing his face.

“Cool trick,” Sokka says, swiping a few stray hairs out of his face. “I didn’t know you were-”

“You did,” Zuko says, still frowning at something Sokka can’t see, “and I’d appreciate if you didn’t say anything about it right now.”

“Uh. Okay.” Sokka takes a few steps closer to Zuko and peers around the corner. “Whatcha looking at?”

Zuko gestures sharply at the tableau in front of them.

There are two Dai Li standing in the alleyway with white roller paint brushes. On the wall next to them is a half-covered piece of graffiti that says, in big letters  _ THE WAR IS COMING TO BA SING SE.  _ The fire nation insignia is below it in a mess of colors, green and purple and blue and red. The white paint drips onto the ground as the Dai Li paint over it. It doesn’t match the brick wall any better than the multi covered graffiti, but Sokka supposes aesthetics aren’t their main concern. They’re grumbling to each other, probably irritated that they’re consigned to censorship instead of beating up refugees. 

“Huh,” Sokka says, “is the graffiti anti- or pro- fire nation?”

“More anti-Dai Li than anything,” Zuko says. “The multicolored flame is used by…” he glances at Sokka, “friends of Suki and I. I’ve never particularly understood the intent.”

“Yeah,” Sokka says, “I dunno. Symbolism has never been a strong suit.”

“You’re a STEM kid, huh?” Zuko starts up the stairs to the train station and Sokka bounds up behind him, taking the stairs two at a time. Zuko’s quite a bit shorter than Sokka but he still manages to walk and go up stairs faster. All Sokka gets is the ability to hit his head on half the doorways in the city. Everything in Ba Sing Se is built for people from the Earth Kingdom and Sokka has to bend down to reach  _ everything.  _

“Oh, totally. And literature isn’t a huge thing in the Southern Water Tribe. Most of our histories and classics were burnt, so the only surviving copies of them are up at the Northern Water Tribe. I used to read comics that we’d get from my father, back when he was stationed in the Earth Kingdom, before he went missing in action. And I had to take a few literature courses at the university, but it never really clicked.”

“Yeah. I love my lit classes,” Zuko says, a blush raising on his cheekbones. “I don’t have much time to read with working at the cafe and all my classes, but I sneak a book behind the counter on slow days.” Sokka’s struck by the image of Zuko in his Jasmine Dragon apron leaning against the counter and burying his nose in a thick novel. He feels his face warm and Zuko smiles his lopsided smile at him.

“Suki plays podcasts for me while we cook sometimes,” Sokka says, “but it’s usually politics or news.” They used to do fictional audiobooks but once you know what’s going on it’s hard to stop keeping up. The newest Peppercorn Chronicles doesn’t seem so important when you think about the war raging under your very feet.

Zuko scowls. “My favorite news podcast got taken off the app for speaking out against the Dai Li and I have to download it off some shady-ass site.”

“That’s rough, man.” The next train pulls into the station and Zuko steps easily up to it, like he takes the train every day. He probably does, if he goes to school at the edge of the ring. Sokka follows him, shuffling through his pockets to find his pass again. He swipes it on the train’s card reader and follows Zuko to the seats at the back of the train car. They sandwich themselves between two women having an argument from opposite sides of the row and exchange amused glances at the creative insults they throw at each other. 

“This stop,” Zuko finally says, his mouth centimeters from Sokka’s ear. Sokka does his best not to shiver at the warm breath- firebenders run warm, his mother once explained to him, and sparks fly from their mouths when they’re angry. Sokka hasn’t seen Zuko angry yet but he can imagine it, the way tiny pinpricks of orange-hot light would swirl around his face.  _ Hot,  _ Sokka’s dumb brain supplies.

“I- yeah- uh,” Sokka stutters, “right here?”

Zuko pulls himself up and offers a hand that Sokka doesn’t notice until he’s standing too. Zuko doesn’t look affronted by Sokka’s accidental rejection, but he holds his hand out awkwardly for a few moments. “Yep. I- do you stay on this train? You don’t have to walk me all the way home, it’s like two blocks from here-”

“No, I’m coming,” Sokka says. He can see the train driver in the rearview mirror. She looks irritated with the holdup. “Also, the train driver’s getting impatient.”

Zuko makes an apologetic face at the front of the train and leaps out of the side door. “Sokka, I like you a lot, but I’ve been trying to get on Li Hua’s good side for  _ months  _ and if you just messed that up, I will spike your tea with arsenic. My uncle knows how to hide a body,” he says seriously. 

Sokka breaks into a grin and throws an arm around Zuko’s shoulder. “Aw, you like me? I like you too, buddy.”

Zuko stabs an elbow into his side and Sokka winces. Sharp elbows for a guy with such soft arms. “I’m  _ serious,”  _ he says.

“Uh-hu,” Sokka says, and Zuko grins up at him.

“You don’t believe I could take you down?”

“Poisoning my drink is hardly taking me down,” Sokka says. He tucks his hands back into his pockets and shrugs. “I mean, that takes as much skill as making the drink in the first place.”

“Like you could make a passable cup of tea,” Zuko sighs. “And besides, I could totally take you in a fight.”

“Oh, really? I’ll have you know that I was one of the best fighters in the southern water tribe  _ and  _ am passable with a boomerang.”

“I was classically trained with a sword before me and my uncle came to Ba Sing Se,” Zuko says. “Suki says your blind 12 year old little sister can take you in a fight.” Zuko’s eyes twinkle when he teases Sokka and he can’t even bring himself to be angry at Suki for sharing that information. He kicks at a pebble on the road and fakes exasperation.

“She’s an earthbender who was trained by the best bender in Gaoling  _ and  _ can see with her feet. I can barely see with my eyes! It’s not a fair fight by any stretch of the words. You’re like, human, and have one less eye than me.” Sokka resists the urge to clap a hand over his mouth. He’s like, 90% sure they’re not at the point in their relationship where Sokka can tease Zuko about his scar, but Zuko looks unbothered.

“She’s still twelve, Sokka,” he says, “and I can still see out of my bad eye.”

“Twelve with a whole  _ superpower  _ that I don’t!” Sokka protests. He’s almost forgotten what he’s arguing for. 

Zuko stops in the middle of the street and Sokka stops with him, mindlessly following Zuko to the front door of the Jasmine Dragon. “I have one of those superpowers too, Sokka,” Zuko reminds him, snapping his fingers and sending a tiny flame rippling across the line of Sokka’s shoulders. Sokka shivers involuntarily and Zuko grins at him. “Anyway, here we are. It was nice to see you today,” he says, and Sokka doesn’t register anything else he says. 

Are they going to kiss? Was this a date? Sokka didn’t get Zuko anything like dinner or coffee, so maybe not? Although Suki says that dates being centered around buying the other person something is capitalist propaganda and while Sokka only sort of knows what that means, he’s sure Zuko knows and agrees, so maybe it was a date. Do you kiss at the end of every date? Zuko catches Sokka staring at his lips and blushes pale pink. “I, uh-” his blush deepens. “Do you want to come in for some tea? You can share some of the cherries I bought.”

Sokka’s not sure if this is a proposition but he  _ is _ sure he’ll make a fool of himself. Besides, he needs to help Suki make dinner. “And let you poison me? Not a chance, babe. Next time, though, when the whole bus driver thing is… water under the bridge,” he says. 

Zuko smiles.

Sokka’s new job is nice. He hates the principle of it- staying silent and ghosting through crowds of rich families who won’t even look at his face as they take another hor de vour off his platter- but it pays well and it’s easy enough. It’s also fascinating in a distinctly repulsive way. He’s been in the upper ring before, sure, but he’s never really been around people from the upper ring. The only rich person he knows personally is Toph and she never talks about her life before she met them. 

This job is quickly showing Sokka that rich people are smart in all the worst ways and fucking idiots in every other way and that he hates each and every one of them with every cell in his body. 

He straightens his collar and holds his tray just a little bit higher, taking care not to let a single salmon-pike bite fall off the sides. Tonight he’s catering for the monarchy, a huge party that seems to be for the king’s pet bear.  _ God,  _ it makes Sokka furious. He doesn’t want to think about how much the meal is going to cost the king, and he  _ especially  _ doesn’t want to think about how it’s taxpayer money going toward the bill. He  _ does  _ want his next paycheck, so he’s going to walk up to this group of women a few feet away and offer some salmon-pike bites. 

They’re dressed to the nines in dresses that Sokka’s sure cost more than the last few months of rent and they lean together, foreheads almost touching. All three of them have the newest iPhone in their hands, all in rose gold, all opened to a half-finished social media post lavishing praise on the king’s party. 

The vindictive part of Sokka wants to charge in between them and break up their gossip circle but the part of him that likes knowing everything decides to stay a foot away. His caterer’s uniform makes him invisible to the elite, he’s found, and even the people who would have crossed the street if they’d seen him out and about brush past him like he’s not even there. He’s not sure if he likes giving up prejudice for invisibility, but it’s certainly more helpful. 

“Ugh, this is like, so dumb,” one says. Her fingers are dripping with rings and Sokka thinks he might recognise her from a news article about her husband. He made his money selling war secrets to the Fire Nation but he can’t be prosecuted in Ba Sing Se because the law system won’t acknowledge that there is a war to have secrets about. “I can’t believe that the king can be placated this easily.”

“Well, it’s perfectly reasonable to have a party for your prized bear in peacetime,” a second titters.  _ Not really,  _ Sokka wants to say.

“Nothing like having a ballroom full of people having fun to remind the King that there’s nothing going on,” the third agrees, and the first snorts.

“Hardly  _ fun  _ around here, honestly. These salmon-pike bites are dry.” She reaches over her friend to the platter Sokka’s holding, tossing another hor de vour into her mouth. “And the music certainly leaves something to desire.” She casts a disdainful look at the band in the front of the room. “Let’s go, ladies.”

They all sniff in agreement and follow the first woman out of the palace ballroom. Sokka adjusts his button-up and looks around for some more hungry guests he can stand next to. He finds a few patches of women, but he also finds a twelve-year-old girl in ill-fitting clothes. She stands alone near the bear, obviously taunting it. Sokka sighs and rolls his eyes before gliding over to her.

“Toph,” he hisses, “why are you here? It’s like, an hour past your bedtime.” The girl jumps backwards when she hears him, as if she didn’t feel him approaching. 

“Sokka!” Her face is a perfect mask of innocence. Sokka wonders who did her makeup. “Suki said I could and you always say that Suki’s in charge whenever you’re gone.” Suki’s  _ always  _ in charge, if Sokka’s honest. When he’s home, though, it’s usually because he does what she says and the kids do what he says. “You wouldn’t undermine her authority, would you?”

Sokka squints at her. “Who taught you phrases like that?”

“Suki was venting to me earlier about some dude at…” Toph’s voice goes hushed, “her job… Jet?”

Sokka grinds his teeth. “Ugh, Jet.”

“Yeah, sounds like a douche. I told her to knee him in the crotch and then, when he doubles over, go for the kneecaps!” Toph acts this out and her feet get a little too close to Sokka’s knee for comfort. She grins up at him. “She didn’t listen, but we took it out on a pile of your pillows for a while. Uh, also, Gran Gran says you gotta vacuum up the feathers some time.”

“No, Gran Gran says  _ you  _ have to vacuum up the feathers. Did Suki actually say you could be here? Because that doesn’t sound like her.”

“...No.”

Sokka rubs at his forehead. “Look, kiddo, my shift’s almost over. It’s a long party, so I don’t have to stay for cleanup, and I’ll take you home. Just… stay by the bear, okay? Don’t wander off.”

“Sorry, Pops, I’m out here doin’ reconnaissance work.”

“Did Suki teach you that word too?” Sokka asks dryly. He trusts that Suki wouldn’t mix Toph up in her work, especially since she puts so much effort into keeping Sokka far away from it, but she still talks about it and home and Toph and Katara get… ideas. 

“No, Jiahue did. She’s very cool,” Toph informs Sokka. “Definitely an upgrade for Suki.”

“Hey!”

“Anyway, gimme a fish bite.” Toph looks down her nose at Sokka and affects a posh earth kingdom accent. “I got a bear to schmooze up to, else I won’t get my next promotion.”

Sokka grumbles as he walks away, but he needs to get back to his job and he’s a little bit glad Toph didn’t need him to stand guard by her. He forgets sometimes, but his kids can handle themselves. 

The next hour of his shift go by in a featureless blur and then it’s time to take off his apron and leave his tray in the kitchens. Toph is waiting for him by the back doors, her makeup neatly washed off her face and her hair in it’s usual tangled mess.

“How’d you get your hair so messy again?” Sokka asks, holding the door open and ushering her through.

“It’s an art,” Toph tells him, “and you’re not cool enough to master it.”

“I don’t need to be that cool. I have you and Aang and Katara to be cool for me.” And Suki and Zuko. But, Sokka reminds himself, they wouldn’t be that cool if he weren’t there to support them. It feels a little presumptive to add Zuko to the list- they’ve only hung out a few times- but it feels like he fits. “Besides, I need to look put-together for my job. I can’t rock the blind-thirteen-year-old chic you’ve got.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” Toph grouses. 

“Swear on the moon I’m not,” Sokka says. “Swear on Gran Gran.”

“Swear on your mother’s grave,” Toph says, starting to walk down the cobbled street in front of Sokka. It’s late enough that there are no citizens out on the streets, but there are still Dai Li at every fifth street lamp. Sokka finds it a bit reassuring that Toph can’t see their glares at the two of them. That doesn’t stop her from veering a bit away from every one she senses. 

“Sheesh, you’re really hitting home, aren’t you,” Sokka mutters. “Sure I do.”

Toph’s face clears. “Okay, cool. D’you wanna hear what I found out for the rebellion at the party? I’m gonna tell Suki when I get home-” Sokka elbows her shoulder hard- he feels a bit bad about it when a look of pure betrayal flashes across her face. “What the hell, Socks!”

“Not. Now,” Sokka says, shooting a look at the Dai Li closest to them. He seems absorbed by something on his phone.  _ Slow night?  _ Sokka thinks bitterly. “Once we get back to the outer ring.”

Toph stomps and earthbends a pebble into the side of Sokka’s head. It stings, but the attack was obviously calculated to not hurt too much. “Fine,” she says. Her face is squished up in petulancy, but her voice is understanding. 

“And Toph…” Sokka lets out a hissing sigh as they reach the train stop. “We need to talk about you being at the party. You get that it’s dangerous, right?”

Toph hangs her head. “You’re at the party.”

“Because it’s my job! Not because I was- ugh, it doesn’t matter. You can’t just run off without telling one of us where you’re going. It’s dangerous to help Suki out, but it’s even worse if we don’t know where you are. I-” Sokka coughs to cover the lump in his throat that’s developing. “I don’t know what I’d do if we couldn’t find you, kiddo.”

Toph looks suitably chastised. “Sorry, pops.”

“Don’t call me that,” Sokka says, and the threat of tears recedes. “I’m only a few years older than you.”

The train screeches into the station and Toph rolls her eyes. “Whatever.”

They chat about the newest episode of the podcast show Toph’s listening to on the train ride home and the conversation inevitably shifts to school.

“So, history class, huh.” 

Sokka and Suki had played at being the kids parents for their last parent-teacher conferences. Aang and Katara’s had gone off without a hitch, but Toph’s… well, she wasn’t the most well-liked student. Her social studies teacher had talked about her with genuine fondness, but she’d urged Suki and Sokka to invest in a tutor. A  _ tutor.  _ The teacher had at least looked apologetic about the money it would cost, but Sokka still felt bad that he wasn’t… he doesn’t know. Helping Toph live up to her potential?

Toph groans and slides lower in her train seat. “Ugh, yeah. It’s so dumb. Everyone at school is like frickin’ sheep or something and the teachers are just reading off scripts. I don’t talk about the history you and Suki tell me anymore after I got sent to the principal’s office but I’m still not going to repeat their lies back at them.” She pauses and earthbends her pebble into a frowny face. “So I fail my history tests.”

Sokka doesn’t know what to say. She’s  _ right,  _ and he’s proud of her, but getting F’s isn’t helping the movement, it’s just setting her back. He’s not sure how to explain that without sounding berating. “Wow,” he says, “smart kiddo.”

“I’m not a  _ kid,”  _ Toph says. She eyes him. “You’re gonna say something like ‘Symbolically performing your morals in a way that sets yourself back does nothing but hinder your future usefulness to upholding those principles,’ aren’t you.”

Sokka sputters. “Seriously, kiddo, where are you getting these words?”

“My history teacher works with Suki,” Toph says. She makes a fist and her pebble falls to the floor as grains of sand. The train doors open at another stop but no one gets on. “She’s right, I know. I just don’t think there’s anything else I can do. That’s why I came to the party. I just wanted to help. And I could! I could get into that party with my last name, and I could  _ help. _ ”

Sokka ruffles his hands through her hair and she glares up at him. “I get it,” he says, “and you’re going to be so helpful someday. But you’re just a kid for now, and there’s a lot of things you don’t know. You have to take the time to learn those things first, and you won’t be able to if you go and get yourself arrested.”

“C’mon!” Toph protests, dodging away from Sokka’s hand, “what don’t I know?”

“Well, you just said ‘Suki’ and ‘rebellion’ in the same sentence in front of a Dai Li back there,” Sokka says. Toph ducks her head.

“What else,” she grumbles, and Sokka sighs. 

“C’mon, Toph, let me keep you safe for a few more years. Once you’re my age, you can do whatever you want and I’ll be right behind you to cheer you on and wrap your wounds. Hell, I’ll fight next to you when you need me to. Just give me a few more years to prepare you, okay? You don’t need that stress yet.” 

And that’s what it boils down to in the end, Sokka thinks. It’s not about her being unprepared, it’s not even really about the damage she could do to everyone else involved. It’s about how he doesn’t want her childhood to be stolen by the war any more than it already was. 

He sees the way Suki comes home from meetings paranoid, the way a tangible weight falls onto Zuko’s shoulders when someone mentions the rebellion. It’s the right thing to do and they all know it, but Sokka doesn’t think it’s selfish to want to protect his younger siblings from it a while longer.

Sokka’s always figured that Toph picks up more than she lets on and tonight's no exception. She lets out a loud sigh and falls over with her head on Sokka’s lap. 

“Okay,” she says. “I’m tired. How long until our stop?”

Sokka checks the map on his phone. “Forty-five minutes,” he says, “you can nap if you want.” Toph nods sleepily and it’s only a few minutes before she’s snoring against his leg. Sokka stares out at the city passing beneath them and lets out a heavy breath.

Sokka decides to try to get his free drink a few days later, stopping into the Jasmine Dragon on his way home from another class. He’s already missed dinner because of his class, so he doesn’t have anywhere to be. He  _ should  _ be doing homework, that’s what it says he should be doing on the family virtual calendar Katara made all of them, but he’s a flexible guy. 

Zuko’s working the counter and Sokka breathes a sigh of relief as he walks through the door. The entryway bells ring out his entry and Zuko’s head shoots up from the boba tea he’s making. His face breaks into a grin before shuttering off and nodding perfunctorily at him. “What can I get you?” he asks as Sokka makes his way to the counter. 

He’s wearing a long wool coat under his apron and Sokka wonders where he’s planning on going after his shift. A few guys are sitting along the bar, still talking at Zuko’s back. Sokka nods at them. “I was hoping for some company, but if you’re busy-” goddamnit, Sokka, you couldn’t have sounded more passive aggressive if you tried, “- oof. Uh, like obviously that’s cool. I just wanted to stop in on my way home. Who’re they?”

Zuko’s face closes off even more and he spares a glance down at the trio waiting for him. Three people- one tall, obviously the leader, with an unlit cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth, and two more sitting on either side of him. They’re all sitting in front of long-empty glasses except for the androgenous one on the end, who’s still pushing boba around with a metal straw. “Doesn’t matter. Friends of Suki’s and mine. This isn’t a great time, Sokka.”

“Shit, is this like… business?” Sokka stuffs a hand in his pockets. He’s not judging Zuko for doing rebellion stuff at the Jasmine Dragon, but he does think about how close it is to his uncle and how Suki never takes her stuff within a mile or so of Sokka and their family. 

“No!” Zuko says, his impassiveness breaking into affront. “I wouldn’t do that at my uncle’s shop, this is his pride and joy. Jet and his friends just show up. It’s complicated, and I don’t want-”

“ _ Hey, _ ” The tall one with the cigarette says, “who’s this, Zuko? You haven’t had a suitor in years!”

Zuko shoots a warning glance at Sokka and rubs at his temples. “Jet, he’s not a  _ suitor. _ ”

“Yeah, nah,” Sokka says, even though he’d very much like to be a suitor, “and I’m actually leaving, so-”

“C’mon, man,” Jet says, mouth curving into a smile Sokka doesn’t like very much. “At least give me your name. It’d be rude to leave me hanging. Here, I’ll buy your coffee.”

“Uh, tea, actually,” Sokka says. “Rose boba?”

Zuko sighs but goes back to start making the drink. Jet pats the stool next to him and Sokka sits. He’s sure he doesn’t like this guy, but he does want a free drink and he doesn’t want to be rude.

“So, you heard my name, what’s yours?”

“Sokka,” Sokka says. 

Jet’s eyebrows jump up his face. “Like, Suki’s Sokka? I didn’t know Zuko was a homewrecker.”

“Me and Suki broke up months ago,” Sokka says sourly. “You know her from… work?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jet chews thoughtfully on the end of his cigarette and Sokka does his best not to make a face. “Honestly, though, I’m not really in it for the politics or whatever. Wanting to do good is cool and all, you know? Suki makes it look good, but I’m just here to fuck up some firebenders. Like it’s trauma and stuff, you know.”

Sokka does know what trauma is like, actually, but the easy way Jet uses it as an excuse makes him grind his teeth. Zuko passes his boba across the counter and Sokka does his best not to glare at him. Jet being a dick is hardly Zuko’s fault, although Sokka does wonder why Zuko hangs out with him.

“Ash eaters,” Jet mutters under his breath and Zuko’s back goes rigid. “Anyway, Zuko’s one of the good ones.”  _ God,  _ fuck him. Zuko’s a good guy, but it’s not  _ despite  _ his firebending. It’s not  _ despite  _ anything.

“Because he only uses his firebending to make tea for you?” Sokka spits. “Because he lets you ignore the parts of him that you don’t like?”

Jet’s eyes flash darkly and his friends inch away from him slightly. “Because  _ Zuko  _ wouldn’t set my goddamn village on fire, bitch.”

“You’re still saying slurs to his face!” Sokka says angrily. Zuko looks guiltily to the other customers in the shop and Sokka forces himself to cool down. “Spirits, man, you could show some common courtesy.”

Jet’s mouth purses and he stands up. “Zuko, I don’t like your new boy toy. We’re leaving. You coming?”

Zuko glances at Sokka and his face is indecipherable. “I need to finish my shift.”

“Fine,” Jet says, and his entourage stands up behind him. “We’ll be at Tigerdillo Bridge.” The bells on the door clang when the door slams behind the three of them and Sokka stares down at his tea. 

“Sorry,” Sokka says, and Zuko shrugs, turning away from Sokka to light a fire underneath his teapot.

“Don’t apologize if you’re not sorry,” he says, mild bitterness tinging his voice. “I don’t need protecting. Jet’s a dick, but it should have occurred to you that there was a reason I wasn’t calling him out. I’m not the type to wait for some knight in shining armor.”

“C’mon, I was just trying to-”

“Yeah, of course. You were trying to help.” Zuko turns around and starts to pour a mug of tea. “I’m sure Suki appreciates it when you come to her defense, too? I’m not any frailer than she is, Sokka. I told you to leave.”

“And I didn’t,” Sokka says, sensing that the situation is spiralling out of control, “and I’m sorry but- I never say anything when people say shit to me. I freeze up, you know? And Katara comes home from school talking about people calling her all sorts of- ugh, I don’t know. And I can’t do anything about it then. I can’t do anything about it ever, but when it seems like I can I’m going to try.” He shakes his head. “I’m not explaining this well.”

“No,” Zuko says, and his voice is noticeably softer than a moment ago. “I get it. But you can’t play a solid defence alone. You need people on your side if you want to protect anyone. Jet- I don’t like him, but he knows how to change things. And he’s just punching up, you know?” Zuko shrugs. “It’s more complicated than you wanting to protect me.”

“Okay, yeah-” And Sokka does hate the fire nation just as much as the next guy from the southern water tribe, but he can still distinguish the imperialist fire nation from fire bending refugees. Zuko’s warning look says that he’s thought about this just as much as Sokka has, though, so Sokka decides it’s not an argument he wants to start. He sips at his boba. “Yeah,” he finally says. “I dunno. I just feel useless.”

“Don’t we all.”

“Like I could be doing something,” Sokka rants at his glass of tea. “Suki’s doing things. You’re doing things! Hell, my Gran Gran is planting revolutionary ideas in her knitting group, but I’m just scared I’ll say the wrong things to the wrong people. I don’t want to know what would happen to Katara and Aang and Toph if I disappeared to wherever the Dai Li takes people.” He swallows. “I don’t want to know what would happen to me.”

“Hey,” Zuko says, “don’t be so hard on yourself. I wouldn’t do anything if I had people depending on me either.” He reaches over the counter to tilt Sokka’s chin up with one finger. His golden eyes are bright and narrowed just a little bit. “And that’s kinda what you’re doing to help.”

“What?” Sokka asks, staring into Zuko’s eyes.

“Suki needs somewhere to go home to,” Zuko says. “Your siblings might grow up and change the world, but they need someone to take care of them right now. Doing something isn’t always dramatic and risky. Sometimes it’s just… protecting the people you care about.” He takes a step back from Sokka to set a mug of tea on the counter. Sokka sighs. “Jasmine tea for Akio!” Zuko calls, and a tall fire nation man comes up to take the cup. 

“It doesn’t feel like enough,” Sokka says, resting on his elbows and leaning forward.

“Doesn’t matter what it feels like, Sokka,” Zuko says, crossing his arms. “I know that… well, I dunno, you’re easy to talk to. You feel safe. You can’t look me in the eyes and tell me that having safe people isn’t important.”

Sokka thinks about being young- really young, when he lived with both his parents down in the southern water tribe. His father used to come home from hunting and melt into Sokka’s mother and Gran Gran. He remembers watching his father recharge while talking with Bato, remembers how he could barely get out of bed after Sokka’s mom died. He always seemed on edge after that, a little rigider and a little tireder. “I- yeah,” Sokka says. 

“You just think that staying on the sidelines is too womanly,” Zuko says, voice going tentative. He uncrosses his arms and takes a rag from above the cafe’s sink, starting to wipe down the counter Sokka’s sitting at. 

“Wha- hey, no. I’m a feminist! I read essays! I’m subscribed to Teen Vouge!” Sokka stirs his tea. “It’s not about that- I don’t even think that. All the women in my life are fighters. I just- I want to be like them, I guess,” Sokka says. It sounds pathetic but Zuko doesn’t seem to mind.

“But it’s not the connection to real life women that’s the problem,” he says. He seems to see that Sokka isn’t going to lash out at the criticism and he sounds eager to explain himself. “When you were young- when most of us were young, although the fire nation is better about this than others- you made that association that caretaking is womanly and women are weak-”

“But that’s not true!” Sokka protests. 

“And yeah!” Zuko agrees. “You know that now, so your brain skips the middle part about being a woman and just does caretaking is weak. It’s just internalized misogyny, Sokka. You’re just as strong as Suki because you’re the reason Suki can be strong.”

Sokka lets out a breath of air. “Oof,” he says. Zuko leans earnestly over the counter. 

“None of us are useless, Sokka. We all just have our own strengths.”

An old man descends a staircase behind Zuko and nods approvingly. “Very insightful, nephew.”

Zuko startles and spins on his heel. Sokka tilts his head. The man is gray-haired and short, wearing a fusion of traditional fire nation and earth kingdom clothing. He looks genuinely happy and Sokka doesn’t know if that’s his general outlook on life or if he’s happy to see Zuko.

“Uncle- how long have you been standing there?”

Sokka finally makes the connection between this man who calls Zuko his nephew and the uncle Zuko has mentioned and he looks at the man with renewed interest.

“Oh, not long. Just long enough to listen to you explain something with impressive expressiveness. Is this the Sokka I’ve heard so much about?”

Zuko’s jaw clenches and he blushes red. “Uncle…” Sokka mentally files this information away for examination later.

“I’m Iroh,” Zuko’s uncle says, leaning over the counter to shake Sokka’s hand. He has a good handshake and his hands are soft. “It’s very nice to meet you, good to know my nephew is finally getting some friends outside of Jet and his troupe.”

“Thank you, sir! Nice to meet you too.” Sokka lets go of his hand and sips his tea, chewing thoughtfully on a boba pearl. “This is your shop, right?”

“Indeed it is! You’re welcome any time, of course,” Iroh says. “My nephew has already offered you a cup of tea on the house, I’ve heard?”

“Yeah, but it’s not this one,” Sokka says, pointing at his boba. 

“Jet paid for it,” Zuko says at his uncle’s questioning expression. Iroh sighs at the other boy’s name and a flash of irritation crosses Zuko’s face. 

“Ah, well. Come in again sometime for a drink, I suppose.” He turns on Zuko. “Nephew, you’ve made two drinks in the last twenty minutes. I love that you’re making friends, but I am paying you for this time. Chop chop! Let’s get to it!”

Zuko rolls his eyes as Iroh makes his way across the shop to a Pai Sho table. “Sorry,” he tells Sokka. “I have to work. You can hang out here, though, if you’d like. The shop closes in an hour and then I can show you something.” He smiles a little bit and Sokka furrows his brow.

“Something?”

“Yeah,” Zuko says. He doesn’t elaborate. “I’ll make you another tea, if you’d like.”

Sokka pushes his glass forward and starts to take out his Chromebook. He figures that if he’s going to be sitting here for an hour he might as well start on his English essay. Maybe he can even pester Zuko into helping with it. “Thanks.”

“Thanks for waiting,” Zuko says, shutting off the last of the lamps in the store and offering Sokka a hand. Sokka takes it, hauling himself off the barstool he’s been sitting on.

“No problem,” Sokka says, “I needed to work on my homework anyway. Suki gets on my back about putting it off all the time.”

Zuko’s mouth curves into a smile. “Uncle Iroh hates when I procrastinate.” He’s lit by street signs, neons lighting up half his face. Just like the night they met. Sokka can only barely keep from reaching forward to caress the other boy’s face, to run his fingers over the edges of his scar painted hot pink by lighting from outside. “C’mon,” he finally says, “I want to show you something.”

“Ugh,” Sokka says, spell broken, “what is it? You gotta tell me now, I waited a whole hour.”

“You can wait another five minutes,” Zuko chides. He leads Sokka up five flights of stairs in the back of the shop, chatting aimlessly about his classes on the way up. The stairs are iron and steep. Sokka only hears snippets of what Zuko’s saying- he’s too focused on not tripping to listen completely. “Okay,” Zuko says when they reach the top of the last staircase, “Uh, just a disclaimer. It’s not going to be that cool, it’s just the roof of the building. We’re just higher up than most buildings in the outer ring and the sky looks kinda pretty, so that’s all-”

“I’m sure it’s incredible,” Sokka says, smiling. Zuko smiles tentatively back and opens the door with a key he procures from his pocket. They step out into the cool night air and it envelopes them, wind brushes past Sokka’s scalp and a faint mist dotting his nose. It feels like they’re above all the noise of the streets below, everything cushioned by their height. 

Zuko walks to sit on the edge of the roof and Sokka follows suit. He dangles his feet off the edge and Zuko hooks one of his legs, tugging Sokka closer to him. Sokka obliges and they sit with their shoulders barely touching. Whenever their arms bump it feels like touching a cookie pan right after it came out of the oven- a tiny shock of heat that makes Sokka want to drop everything he’s holding. 

“You’re warm,” Sokka says to the sky. He can’t see many stars, even up here. Light pollution is worse in Ba Sing Se than almost anywhere else on the map, which Sokka thinks is sad when he bothers to think about it. He used to be able to see all the colors of the Milky Way in the northern water tribe. It’s kinda funny how quickly it stopped being something that bothered him. If he squints he can see the big dipper. 

“I’m a firebender,” Zuko says, a smile in his voice. “We run warm.”

“Oh,” Sokka says, “I’ve been meaning to ask you about that. Can you really breathe sparks?”

“I can breathe fire,” Zuko says. “The sparks look better, though.” He exhales heavily and sparks fly from his lips, red-gold pinpricks against the indifferent blue sky. They look a little bit like the stars Sokka can’t see anymore.

“Hot,” Sokka decides, and Zuko blushes beside him.

“Hey,” Zuko says conversationally, “can I kiss you?”

Sokka blinks. Zuko’s sparks are still faintly glowing in the air above them and that’s about all he can process of the last few seconds. “Huh?”

“Can I kiss you,” Zuko repeats. He sounds more nervous this time. Sokka never wants him to have to be nervous again. He looks over at Zuko, who’s staring at him. His eyes are like… ugh, Sokka doesn’t know. They’re beautiful, is what they are, comparable to a billion priceless things, and they’re Zuko’s, which makes them better than everything else. After another moment of silence, Zuko gets flustered. “I mean, if you don’t want to that’s fine. I just thought. You- Suki’s said that. I mena, I don’t know. Maybe I misread the situation.”

“No,” Sokka says. “No, you can absolutely kiss me. Please.” He puts a gentle hand on Zuko’s knee so that he doesn’t fall off the roof and leans forward. Zuko tastes like ginger and spit and he kisses like he’s holding something precious. Sokka’s never felt quite as held as he does when Zuko kisses him. 

“That was nice,” Zuko says when they pull apart. His eyes are half-lidded and he looks happy. Sokka leans forward to kiss him right beneath his eye and Zuko breathes tiny sparks against Sokka’s neck.

“You’re nice,” Sokka says. Zuko wraps his hands in Sokka’s sweatshirt, tugging him forward. They kiss again, falling backwards against the tar of the roof and Zuko laughs against Sokka’s mouth. 

It’s nice. It’s really, really nice and some part of Sokka labels it as a distraction. A triviality that doesn’t matter in the face of everything bad happening around them all the time. A kiss, a smile from someone he cares about is hardly something that could save the world and so it’s hardly something worth doing, part of him insists. 

But Sokka looks down at Zuko, face flushed and eyes gleaming and he decides that loving is always worth his time.  _ If loving isn’t worth doing then there’s nothing worth fighting for _ , Gran Gran said once, and that’s what it all boils down to, really. Sokka loves and he loves and he loves because he needs to build a world the people he loves can come home to. 

“Hey,” Zuko says, cupping Sokka’s jaw with one hand, “stop thinking so hard. The fight can wait a night.”

**Author's Note:**

> \- so here we are! hope you all enjoyed this :D  
> \- suki & sokka bromance means so much to me... like i ship them a little bit too but more than that they r just on the same wavelength. they bring out the idiot in each other but also the really intelligent person in each other and THAT'S what love is, platonic or romantic.  
> \- also this was written by me, a white middle class american, as a way of trying to process the way things happening in the world affect me even while i'm still very insulated by my privileged. obviously that's quite a bit different than what sokka is facing in-story but that's where i was coming from while writing this. all this to say that if you think anything is inaccurate/offensive pls drop me a comment and i'll fix it!  
> \- uh ok idk if they'll read this but to the tumblr anon who said they knew a fic was mine bc i put against me lyrics in is i just want u to know that i have thought abt that ask every day. it makes me SO happy and also i had already added the against me lyrics to this fic when u sent it which just goes to show how right u were. i just think the atla characters would like their music.  
> \- i LOVE sokka as a protector rather than a fighter??? i think throughout the show he does try to force the offensive fighter part of himself because of the toxic masculinity he's internalized but the purpose he plays in the show and in the gaang IS of the protective older brother?? like he just loves his three children/younger siblings so much and i love that for him.  
> \- you can find me on tumblr [@lazypigeon. \- pls comment and kudos it makes me so happy :)](https://lazypigeon.tumblr.com/)


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